


safety is in these arms (i've spent my whole life scared)

by serenascampbell



Category: The Durrells (TV)
Genre: AU sort of, Damsel in Distress, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I swear, TW: Violence, nothing too graphic, tell me if u like it and want more x, tw: sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 02:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenascampbell/pseuds/serenascampbell
Summary: louisa is attacked, spiros is everything that she needs him to be. realisations happen.





	1. Chapter 1

The walk home from Florence’s was short. Fifteen minutes at most without belongings to carry.

It was the middle of summer and despite the fact it was after nine o’clock, the streets were still well lit under the evening sun’s rays.

Humming to herself merrily, she cast her gaze up to the orange sky and revelled in its beauty. There were many things she missed about Bournemouth, but the scenery most certainly was not among them. In the entire world, she believed, there could not be a more magical sight than this one.

“Hey!”

Louisa’s head snapped down at both the noise she had heard and the impact she had felt. As soon as she saw the man in front of her, the colour drained from her face.

Why hadn’t she been looking where she was going? Why hadn’t she asked Spiros to come and pick her up? Why hadn’t she agreed to spend the night in Florence’s spare room?

“Gosh, I’m so sorry! Terribly sorry…συγνώμη,” Louisa rambled, only to be sharply cut off by the man roughly grasping her wrist.

“Πουτάνα,” she heard the man bite out sharply before plastering on a menacing smile. “You come with me? Make up for this? Come on!”

His speech rolled off his tongue drunkenly, blowing the scent of whisky into Louisa’s face and further garbling his poor English.

The reek of alcohol that clung to him was enough to make Louisa heave, if it weren’t for the blood racing in her veins and the way her heart thrilled against the inside of her ribcage. Tentatively, she shook her head and tried to withdraw her wrist from his hold, but he only tightened it beyond the point of discomfort.

“No, I’m in a hurry…sorry…children to feed…waiting for me…I have to go,” she rabbited on pointlessly, ignoring the stinging in her tear ducts. “Please, Sir.”

“Sir?” The man scoffed, reaching up and pushing a loose curl behind her ear. “You come. I treat you good.”

His scraggy fingernails scratched against the soft skin of Louisa’s jaw uncomfortably. His false smile had devolved to nothing less than a sneer, barely centimetres left between their faces, and Louisa knew she had to react.

This was Corfu, after all, there wasn’t the same flair for conservativism. At least that was what she told herself.

“Get off me,” she snapped, though it came out as more of a plea.

Tugging out of his grip, she pulled as hard as could, hoping she had the strength to hurt him if she had to. At her disobedience, he only tutted, knotted his hand in her hair and yanked, hard.

“Come now, bitch,” he ordered, dragging her like a ragdoll a few yards up the street.

This town was home to Louisa, she knew it inside and out. She knew that next to the public house was a garden, and behind that, a woodland from which little could be heard. The perfect place for such a crime.

It was her last chance to do something.

A scream. Louder than she believed herself capable of. Loud enough to startle her attacker but only for a moment.

His grip around her wrist loosened long enough for her to break free, but not long enough to run beyond his reach. He pushed her to the ground, pinning her arms above her head with a practiced ease that made her nauseous. One palm clamped over her mouth to keep her from making another noise, the other holding her wrists against the cold dirt of the roadside.

There was no space between them now. He was all she could see, all she could smell, all she could feel up against her flailing body.

“Louisa!”

A feeling like no other ran through her. Such extraordinary relief flooded her body at his voice.

Of course he was here. When was he anywhere other than the place she needed him most?

The weight on top of her felt meaningless now. The terror still ran through her veins but her head and her heart had both eased instantly.

She could see the sky again now. Beside her, there was yelling, the sound of a fight, though it took her a moment to react to it. Her eyes flickered over to them, saw Spiros straddling the nameless man, fists blurring in their rapid onslaught upon the stranger’s face.

Her heart felt pinched within her chest, she knew Spiros was capable of this, she had seen glimmers of it before in him: when he was drunk, in the weeks following his divorce, when he saw one of the children harmed. The urge to stop him was strong in her, but the need to feel safe was stronger.

“Είσαι σκάρτος μπάσταρτος!” Spiros snarled as he rose, sending a brutish kick to the gut before approaching Louisa tentatively. “Mrs Durrells?”

Louisa didn’t think twice before throwing herself into his arms. She didn’t have the energy to sob in that moment, all that her mind could capacitate was the feeling of relief.

Effortlessly, Spiros swept her up and carried her hurriedly to his car. In the passenger’s seat, she exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours. Every muscle felt weak, so utterly powerless to do anything, and yet her veins were flooded with adrenaline that refused to let her calm down.

“Where are we going?” Louisa croaked out nervously, noticing that they were driving the way she had come.

“To get Mrs Petrides. I imagine there is nothing worse than the thought of being alone right now,” Spiros answered confidently. The absence of a reassuring hand upon her knee almost surprised her, and yet she knew its presence would’ve shaken her.

Everything felt sped up. Each second of the next half hour collided into a thirty second montage that moved so fast it fell out of focus.

Her sitting room couch. Florence sat on her right. Margo stood in the doorway.  A blanket around her shoulders. A silence running through the house that ran cold as ice.

“Do you want to try and get some sleep, dear?”

The suggestion meant little to her. She didn’t know what she wanted right now. All she knew was that she was alive, and indoors, and warm, and that was more than she could’ve hoped for.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes opened to sunlight streaming through the curtains and blinding her temporarily. She blinked emphatically, realising she was laid on the couch and taking a moment to remember last night’s events.

Florence was opposite her, curled up and still dozing lightly. Awkwardly, Louisa patted Florence’s knee gently, waking her from her slumber.

“Louisa! You’re up!” The doctor’s wife exclaimed with a smile, sitting upright and wiping the corners of her eyes. “How are you feeling? Would you like some tea, or a bath, perhaps?”

“I’m fine, Florence. Where are the children? I don’t remember seeing them last night, and Gerry should certainly be up and about by now,” Louisa asked fretfully, throwing the blanket off herself and standing, only to fall straight back down into the cushioning of the furniture.

At her failure to answer, Louisa glared impatiently at her friend, noting her tense expression and becoming nervous.

“They’re fine. They just went to Spiros’ for the night. He thought things might be easier for you without any men around the house, Margo’s still here…in her bedroom, I expect. If you want to see the boys, I can send her to go and get them now, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” she offered sweetly, rising from her makeshift bed and straightening out her skirt.

Louisa shook her head timidly, unsure of what she wanted right now.

“I, erm…” she began, mulling over her words before continuing. “I think I’ll wash up first, change into some fresh clothes, then I can throw together some breakfast and I’ll head down to get the boys myself. I ought to thank Spiros for last night.”

“I’m sure that can all wait,” Florence tried to reason half-heartedly, watching as Louisa was already halfway to the door. “I’ll pop the kettle on while you change then.”

Upstairs, in the solitude of the bathroom, Louisa allowed herself to process her ordeal. She didn’t cry, though some part of her wanted nothing less than to break down and sob. She didn’t scream, though her lungs felt heavy with the need to. She simply accepted it, washed the dirt out of her hair, and cast her soiled clothes into the rubbish bin.

In the next room, she could hear Margo bustling around typically, and it suddenly hit her that she had no idea what the children had been told.

With a presentable appearance and a convincing smile upon her face, she descended the stairs with a rather urgent need to interrogate Florence about last night’s events.

“Florence, dear, I’m going to head down to Spiros’ now, but first I think I ought to ask you – what exactly do my children know about last night?” Louisa asked as she swept up a slice of toast and took a bite from it.

“That you had an unfortunate experience last night, that you might be a little brittle for a while, that it’s absolutely nothing for them to be worried about and that you have Spiros and I to offer any help you might need,” she replied shyly, sipping at her tea.

Understandingly, Louisa nodded gently before turning for the door.

“I’ll be back soon, if you need to hurry off, thank you for being here last night,” she finished as she headed briskly outside.

The walk to town was a brief one, she found herself naturally hurrying in search of Spiros’ home. It was only when she turned onto Akidimias that she came to an abrupt halt. About 500 yards down was the public house which had played host to last night’s events, and about 300 yards past that, was the turning towards Spiros’ house.

Her legs refused to walk. Every time she inched forward, she was thrown backwards by what felt like an invisible sheet of glass.

Drawing a deep breath, she did the only thing she knew how to. What she should have done last night. What she wished she had done. She ran.

Heart pounding in her chest. Lungs searching for oxygen they simply couldn’t find. Palms against the brick of Spiros’ house.

“Mrs Durrells?” His voice again, so tender as he approached her, leaving far more space than usual between them. If it was anybody but him, she might have screamed. “The boys are inside, would you like a moment before I tell them you’re here?”

Faintly, she offered a nod.

He turned to leave her, but her hand impulsively reached out and grabbed hold of his shirt.

“Spiro, wait,” she begged, and he turned to face her loyally. “I need to thank you for yesterday…for all of it.”

Silently, he waited as she tried to catch her breath, gasping for air that didn’t seem to help in the slightest. Spiros watched her struggle until he could bear it no longer.

“Breathe with me, watch my chest. I breathe, you breathe, okay?” He edged ever-so-slightly closer to her. “In…and out.”

They were there for an age. Breathing in and out. Her eyes on the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes on the anxiety ebbing from her dilated pupils.

“I don’t know what that was,” Louisa uttered shyly, eyes wide as she lifted them to meet his.

“We call it φόβος…my eldest girl struggled with it,” he explained tentatively, a sympathetic smile gracing his lips. “It’s natural, after what you’ve been through.”

There was the sound of a door being slammed shut inside and if she had been capable, she would’ve worried that the boys had witnessed her outburst. 

“I was going to say thank you, for being where I needed you…as you always are. And for knowing what I needed even better than I knew myself, because I’ll be the last to admit that I need help sometimes,” she offered weakly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it in thanks.

He reciprocated gently, nodded his assent, and wordlessly looking towards the front door before following her lead and heading inside.


End file.
